All fables should have two parts: the intrigue and discovery. They may be divided into three types: the probable, the allegorical, and the marvelous (I like to think that this fable is marvelous ...) / Nov. 2010
For many years the soup pot was happy to make large quantities of spicy crab soup. It warmly simmered the onions, the celery, the potatoes, the tomatoes, the cabbage, lima beans, green beans, corn and peas, and the delicate crab meat. Then, one day, a musical wizard picked up the empty soup pot and hammered out a pleasing rhythm. Ka-thump-thump-thump. The wizard was inspired to compose a song for and about the soup pot, adding a heady mix of strings, melodica, shakers and bells to the pot's knell. It was a magical rhythm that moved mere mortals to sing and dance like the gods. The soup pot traveled with the musicans to a festival of spicy hot in a mythical place atop the endless mountain. The musicians sang in tribute to the soup pot while the soup pot called out the beat. Shakers shook. Uke strings twanged. Dancers danced. Flutes fluted. Bells jingled and jangled. The people were overcome with joy and called out. They clapped their feet. They stomped their hands. The soup pot sparkled and sang. Its metal glowed like a shooting star breaking through the august night. It had found its destiny. Days later the soup pot traveled back to the land of jersey and fell silent. No musical wizards made its metal sing or its heart go ka-thump-thump-thump. Months later it was pressed into service to make crab soup for a great feast. It simmered the onions, the celery, the potatoes, the tomatoes, the cabbage, lima beans, green beans, corn and peas, and lastly the delicate crab meat. Finally the cook turned the flame off beneath the pot so the soup would cool down. Hours later the pot was still too hot to touch. It burned with an intense desire. Fed by the soup spices and the memories of its music, the soup pot burned so hot it made the cooling cabinet melt. It burned so hot it turned the soup sour. It burned so hot the cook cried out in anguish, "but what shall we feed the dinner guests?"
The moral of the story is ... Have extra vegetables on hand to make another pot of soup because once the devil (dawg) has gotten into your soup pot you may not get him out. Or maybe: Once it has kept the beat the soup pot may no longer be able to regulate its heat? Or (more likely): Make sure your soup pot has cooled down completely before putting it in the refrigerator.
I was intrigued. I discovered. I love it! You can take the pot out of the flame, but you can't take the flame out of the heat.
Posted by: Gregor | November 22, 2010 at 13:06
Makes me hungry for more.
Posted by: Enchanted | November 22, 2010 at 15:56
hmm.. Im realizing that my little play on words doesn't really work if you use the wrong word... "You can take the pot out of the flame but you can't take the flame out of the pot"
There we go. It went from not making sense, to mediocre.
Posted by: Gregor | November 23, 2010 at 15:46
I think exploring "the moral" must be part of why the fable has a "discovery" part -- it's part of the process (I like both your morals; they make you think!). And I like "it went from not making sense, to mediocre" -- I guess it's too long for a band name? maybe a song title? maybe a life plan?
There is also more intrigue to this fable. The refrigerator (i.e., cooling cabinet) has been alternately working and not working. When it's working (i.e., the fan is blowing) it seems to "sing" (some might use the word "squeal" or perhaps "whine") loudly. I think that the soup pot told the refrigerator about his experiences making music with the band and now the refrigerator wants to go on the road, too. Anyone in SF looking for a large, somewhat-cool, very-heavy-metal-type band mate?
Posted by: jelisava | November 23, 2010 at 16:24